True Sacrifice
by unicorn-skydancer08
Summary: Tumnus gains a new perspective of Edmund when Edmund saves his life, endangering his own life in the process. Re-written, and re-posted.


**TRUE SACRIFICE**

_I have been developing a real interest in Tumnus and Edmund lately. I feel there simply aren't enough stories about these two to go around. So, I decided to help remedy that. _

_As this is a battle story, I must warn you, there are some intense moments, and there is some blood. But I promise it's nothing too bad. Unlike some authors, I try to be dramatic and exciting in my stories, without being overly gory or gruesome. As always, reviews would mean the world to me! Thanks, guys, and happy reading! _

_**EDIT** I initially intended to make this a one-shot; then, when the story proved to be more difficult to write than I'd thought, I broke it up into three parts. But then I changed my mind in the end and decided to bring it all together into one. Thus, I had to re-post it all over again. I'm really sorry to those who were so kind to review this before. _

_I promise, it's nothing personal, and I sincerely hope you won't mind reviewing this again. _

_

* * *

_**Characters © C.S. Lewis and Disney/Walden Media**

**Song (at the end of the story) © Bryan Adams**

**Story © unicorn-skydancer08**

_**All rights reserved. **_

* * *

"_Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."_

**~ St. John 15:13 (KJV)**

* * *

"Maintain your positions, men!" High King Peter hollered, his voice scarcely audible over the din of the furious battle that was taking place.

At the same time, the mangy minotaur who led the opposing side could be heard bellowing to his own troops: "Fight, you miserable maggots! Don't let a bunch of pathetic Narnians, let alone some puny human boy who calls himself king, get the best of you! Kill all who stand in your way! Show no mercy! Take no prisoners!"

"Oreius, the right flank!" Peter called to his general. To a nearby faun, he added, "Tristram, take the left flank!"

The centaur and the faun readily took up their strategic positions, while the rest of the Narnians boldly strove for their lives, for their country, and for Aslan.

Among those participating in the battle were Edmund, the second King of Narnia as well as Peter's own brother, and the faun Tumnus.

Though Tumnus had never had much experience in the field of war, he fought as gallantly as all the others, wielding his sword with vigor, darting about from here to there with a lively swiftness. Edmund was every bit as dynamic in spirit and action as the faun was, if not more so. Though the two were different, at least on the outside, their minds and their hearts were melded into one. And though their enemy was great, in strength as well as size, they took courage knowing they had Aslan on their side.

It also didn't hurt that the Narnians had a few advantages in weaponry and strategy.

For the most part, when it came to war, their adversaries relied on nothing more than numbers and brute strength.

But the Narnians knew there was far more to victory than those factors alone. They were wise enough to understand that they must use their brains, as much as their brawn.

One foul-faced ogre lunged blindly at Tumnus, but Tumnus dodged him easily, as light as a feather on his nimble hooves. Then a snarling wolf with matted black hair, flaming red eyes, and dripping yellow fangs made a move for Edmund, but with a flash of his sword, Edmund struck a single blow and ended the monster's life.

At one point, Tumnus and Edmund found themselves back-to-back—literally.

Upon feeling someone behind him, Tumnus whirled around, ready to lop off his opponent. But when he saw it was only Edmund, he retracted his sword, as did Edmund with_ his _sword.

"Oh, it's you, Mr. Tumnus," said Edmund, with a deep sigh. "I could have killed you!"

"With all this going on," said Tumnus, indicating the horde around them, "that would have been no surprise, Edmund."

Even though Edmund was a king, he always insisted that Tumnus address him by his first name. Edmund, like his sister Lucy, who was Queen of Narnia alongside Susan, their elder sister, could care less about the royal titles. Just hearing the words "Your Majesty" was enough to bring color to his face, and bring the smoke out of his ears.

"You all right, Mr. Tumnus?" Edmund asked the faun at length.

"Perfectly splendid," said Tumnus, with obvious sarcasm. "And you?"

"I'm having the time of my life with this," Edmund replied.

Then, right at that moment, upon seeing a bizarre, womanlike creature with the face of a grotesque vulture advancing on Edmund from the rear, Tumnus said urgently, "Look out, Edmund!"

Before Edmund could say anything, react in any way, Tumnus jostled him out of the way and thrust his own sword directly at the boy's opponent, with full force.

The strange creature gave a dreadful shriek that was somewhere between a woman's cry and a vulture's screech as Tumnus's blade gored it, and the poisoned knife it had been prepared to use on Edmund dropped to the ground. The creature, not yet dead though mortally wounded, forthwith turned and slunk away. Edmund stared at Tumnus in great astonishment, realizing what the faun had just done for him. There were so many things Edmund could have said, but the only intelligible word that escaped the boy's tongue was, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," said Tumnus grimly, after stooping briefly to wipe his sword on the grass. "Seriously."

Then, without another word, the faun turned his back on Edmund and set off into the heat of battle.

Edmund continued to gape after him, marveling at the way Tumnus had saved his life.

There were many Narnians who would willingly give their lives to protect Edmund. But it moved Edmund more than anything to know that Tumnus would rescue him from harm…especially after the way Edmund once betrayed the faun to the White Witch, not so long ago. Though the two had already made amends with each other, Edmund had yet to fully forgive himself for what he'd done, and sometimes he couldn't help questioning whether Tumnus truly trusted him. As grateful as the boy was to the faun, a part of him wondered if Tumnus did what he just did for Edmund's sake, or merely for the sake of Narnia—as Edmund was, after all, one of the leading sovereigns. Narnia could not afford to lose even one of the Four Crowned Heads.

Then Edmund felt ashamed for doubting the sincerity of Tumnus's deed, and offered a brief prayer in his heart for forgiveness, before returning to his fighting stance himself.

The battle continued, growing increasingly worse with every minute.

The swords crashed and clanged, and the arrows were as thick as flies. It took everything the Narnians had to survive; their strength and spirits were taxed to the limit.

"_For Narnia!_" was their constant cry.

Tumnus was wearing out, in both body and mind, yet he refused to quit now.

If this day was to be his last, he thought, if he was to die here and now, he would die fighting—not simply lying down and yielding to his enemies.

If he perished, he would do so with courage and dignity.

Atop one of the swelling hillocks above the faun, a grisly minotaur with a bow silently nocked a deadly arrow, and took direct aim at Tumnus, drawing the string all the way to his ear. Tumnus, having his back turned, was not aware of his foe, but he did hear Edmund's frantic voice wail out to him: "Mr. Tumnus, look out!" Before Tumnus even realized what was happening, Edmund impulsively rushed up to him, and he roughly shoved the faun to one side, at the precise moment that the minotaur loosed his arrow.

Tumnus was knocked out of range—but that meant the arrow ended up striking Edmund instead.

It scored a perfect hit in the young king's chest.

Edmund's only reaction was a faint gasp of surprise and pain, before he crumpled to the ground like a marionette doll with its strings detached.

No sooner had the boy fallen to the earth than his assailant was shot in the back, by a centaur from Peter's side.

With a heartstopping roar, the brute swayed and toppled from his perch, and ended up dropping a good thirty feet or so. He was dead before he'd even hit the ground.

Tumnus, who had stumbled and fallen onto his face when Edmund pushed him, slowly raised himself to his hands and knees, shaking his head a number of times.

It was a good thing the faun was wearing his helmet, and his thick vambraces also protected his arms from getting skinned. But then Tumnus looked up and discovered Edmund lying on the ground a short distance away, not moving, with the tail of an arrow sticking out of him. The faun's heart literally stopped beating at the sight.

"Edmund!" he gasped. "_No!_"

He never hesitated to scramble to his hooves and flee to the fallen king's side. He was terrified of what he would see; sure enough, when he reached Edmund and knelt next to him, he saw that the arrow was embedded deep in Edmund's chest, almost directly over his heart. It was so close, in fact, that Tumnus feared Edmund's heart may have been pierced already. But he knew Edmund still lived, for the boy was gasping for breath, while moaning in agony at the same time. His whole face was white, and Tumnus could see he had broken out into a cold sweat.

Whether Edmund was going to make it, Tumnus knew not. But either way, the faun knew he had to get the boy to safety.

Aside from their enemies, who would see Edmund in his state and readily finish the job, there was far too much noise and far too much pandemonium raging around them.

So, without any thought for his own welfare, Tumnus proceeded to lift Edmund up, so that he could carry him. The boy was a little too big and heavy for Tumnus to carry in his arms, so the faun simply took Edmund's arm and wound it around his own shoulders, and used his free arm to hoist his companion from the ground as he rose to his hooves. He took care to rise slowly, and gently. Edmund's head lolled hopelessly from his neck as he was brought up with the faun. Tumnus then led him away, trying to move as quickly as he could while taking care at the same time. He wove his way expertly through the throng of beasts, dodging centaurs, fauns, ogres, and an occasional arrow or stone, until ultimately he found refuge in a shallow ditch.

It was flanked by a natural ridge of stone, forming a massive wall, and the grass at the bottom grew tall and thick.

It was the perfect place to hide, so Tumnus dragged Edmund there.

Once they had reached the floor of the ditch, away from the intensity of the battle, Tumnus settled onto his knees, laying Edmund gently in front of him on the soft carpet of grass, on his back. Somehow, Edmund's face looked even paler; he was as white as a ghost. His chest heaved and jerked erratically as he continued to struggle for breath. He made terrible retching noises, like he was about to be sick. Tumnus quickly unlaced the boy's helmet and gently lifted it from his head, then decided he had better take out that arrow as well.

He couldn't bear to see it sticking out like that, anyway.

"Brace yourself, Edmund," the faun instructed.

Edmund said nothing, but he seemed to understand what Tumnus wanted, for both his hands grabbed thick wads of grass, and he didn't move from that spot.

Pressing one hand firmly against Edmund's chest, next to the arrow, Tumnus used his other hand to grasp the arrow by the shaft, the way Oreius had once shown him. Then, in one swift movement, he pulled the arrow straight back to remove it. Edmund uttered a short yet piercing scream as Tumnus jerked the arrow free. In spite of his efforts to hold still, his whole body jumped. The sharp arrowhead was covered thickly in blood, and a hot flow of it followed the extraction, which Tumnus attempted to reduce by pushing down harder on Edmund's chest.

Eventually, Tumnus was able to lessen the bleeding, to some degree.

But Edmund looked even worse than before; his face now had a strange greenish cast to it, and Tumnus could tell by his eyes that he was going into shock.

_Where's Lucy when you need her? _the faun thought in dismay.

Only Lucy, with her special fireflower potion, could save Edmund now.

But Aslan knew where Lucy was at this time. Tumnus couldn't very well haul Edmund all around the battlefield to track her down, and the faun dared not leave Edmund behind, in this state.

So, the faun did the only thing he could do, and stayed with Edmund, keeping a faithful watch over him. At length, in hopes of making Edmund at least a little more comfortable, Tumnus slowly dragged the small king onto his warm, fur-covered lap, and cradled him like a child. While Edmund's legs lay sprawled in front of him, Tumnus's arms upheld the upper half of the boy's body; in this way, Edmund remained in a semi-sitting position. One vambraced arm enfolded Edmund's middle, the other supported his head and neck.

Edmund groaned, and peered faintly into Tumnus's face. "M…Mr. T…T…Tumnus…" he said thickly. He could barely focus; everything was literally swimming before his eyes.

"Yes, it's me," Tumnus reassured his companion in a soft voice. "I am here, Edmund." With one arm still cradling the boy's head, Tumnus moved his free hand around and gently brushed Edmund's tangled black hair out of his eyes, in an attempt to soothe him. "You just lie quietly, until help arrives," the faun continued. In his mind, he added grimly, _If help arrives on time. _

Edmund said not another word, only closed his eyes completely, and his whole body sagged in Tumnus's arms like a heavy sack of potatoes.

Though Tumnus could not fully make out the wound, the dark, ugly stain that spread over Edmund's front testified to how gravely he was hurt. Tumnus knew it was a miracle Edmund had survived this long. And it would take a miracle to save him. "Edmund…why?" Tumnus whispered to the boy at length. "Why did you have to do that? Why did you imperil your life, for _my _sake? Narnia can get on well enough without me…but Narnia needs _you. _You're one of the Four Royal Kings and Queens. You're part of the prophecy. I am nowhere half as valuable."

For the first time since the battle commenced, Tumnus's brave blue eyes overflowed with tears, and he wept like a newborn lamb.

Edmund did not answer, and he made no sign of having heard Tumnus. Save for the rasp of his breath, and the intermittent heaving of his chest, he looked quite dead already.

_Oh, Aslan, _Tumnus prayed fervently, as he held Edmund closer, and bowed his own head until their foreheads touched, _please spare this good king. Don't let the young Son of Adam die. It does not matter what becomes of me in this, but I beg you, please, let Edmund be all right. Let him live. Take me, if you must…but let the boy live. _

* * *

How much time went by, Tumnus knew not. It could have been hours, minutes, even seconds, and the faun would hardly have known the difference.

But he stayed with Edmund, keeping him sheltered in his arms the entire time. Edmund only lay in a deathly silence, and all Tumnus could do was hold him and pray for him. Though the faun's lips barely moved, in his heart, he kept pleading tearfully with Aslan for Edmund's life. He prayed that, somehow, in spite of the odds, the small king would be all right.

He knew he would never be able to bear it if Edmund died, especially for someone like him.

Even if Edmund wasn't king, he was still much too young to be dying in Tumnus's arms. He was too young to have it all end for him now.

Compared to Tumnus, who was quite young himself (notwithstanding he was above Edmund by well over a hundred years), fifteen years seemed like nothing.

Although Edmund never moved, Tumnus tried to comfort him with soft words, letting the boy know he was there, reminding him of all the good in his life, and reassuring the boy that all would be well. Edmund never responded, but appeared to be slipping further away. "Hold on, Edmund," Tumnus whispered beseechingly. "Please, hold on…"

Presently, racing hoofbeats sounded close by. Tumnus was quite certain he could distinguish Oreius's step; sure enough, he heard the centaur's deep voice bellow urgently, "Tumnus! Tumnus, Edmund—where are you?" Tumnus's ears pricked up at the sound of the voice, his heart leaped like a fish, and he raised his head a little higher.

"Tumnus!" Oreius's voice shouted again. "Edmund! Answer me!"

Tumnus did not move from his position, but he called back, "We're here, Oreius!"

Within a minute, Oreius came swiftly, as though from the clear blue.

"_Tumnus!_" he said vehemently when he saw the faun. He slid to a sharp halt at the edge of the ditch, his hooves gouging up dirt as he did so. He looked and sounded both irritated, and enormously relieved. He was clutching one of his many swords that he kept strapped to his body, and Tumnus could make out a bloody cut below his left eye, which was swelling rapidly. "Where in the name of Aslan have you been all this time?" Oreius demanded. "I've looked everywhere for you! We thought that you—"

But then his eyes fell upon Edmund, who lay in Tumnus's lap as one dead, and he gasped in horror and disbelief, his brown face turning whiter than a sheet. "Oh, no! Oh, by the Lion, _no!_"

Without hesitation, he plunged his sword back into its sheath, and he picked his way into the ditch with the faun and the young king.

When he stood next to them, he got down on the ground himself, tucking his long, powerful legs beneath him. "What's happened here?"

"Edmund has been wounded," said Tumnus, indicating the hideous stain that covered Edmund's chest. "He saved me from a flying arrow, only to get shot himself. I couldn't leave him, so I brought him here, where he would be out of harm's way." Tears spilled afresh from the faun's eyes as he continued, "He may very well be dying. We must save him!"

Oreius gingerly touched Edmund's forehead, then moved his hand to the side of the boy's throat to feel for a pulse. Finally, he brought his face close to Edmund's, so that he could listen to his breathing. "He is near death," the centaur proclaimed at length. Though Tumnus expected an answer like this, it chilled him all the same. "The wound is deep, and his heart is very weak," Oreius continued. "It's a miracle he's lasted this long." He closed his eyes and bowed his head, shaking it slowly. "Tumnus, I hate to tell you this…but I doubt there's anything we can do."

These words seared through Tumnus, like a rod of burning iron. When Oreius doubted someone's survival, it was almost certain that person would indeed die.

"But he must not die!" Tumnus interjected, as his tears flowed freely. "We have to do something! I will _not_ let Edmund die, for me." Then an idea occurred to the faun. "Oreius, you're a lot stronger than I am, and can run much faster than I ever can. _You_ take Edmund. Take him, and get him to safety. Run, as you've never run before."

Oreius stared at him incredulously. "What? Me?"

"You're Edmund's only hope," said Tumnus resolutely. "Take him, and go! Now!"

"But, Tumnus—"

Tumnus could feel his temper rising. What was Oreius waiting for? Valuable time was being wasted! Every second that ticked by meant one second less for Edmund.

"Are you going to help me out here, Oreius?" the faun demanded, in a voice Oreius had never heard him use before. "Or, must I find some other way? I'll tie Edmund to the back of a griffin, if necessary! Either you will help us, or leave us now!" It seemed strange, a mere soldier telling the general what to do; traditionally, giving Oreius orders was Peter's job.

Oreius was also stunned by the sharpness of Tumnus's tone, and the fiery glare in his eyes. For the first time, the centaur could see the young faun had a stubborn streak, and a temper, to rival his own. The centaur made no further argument, but dutifully reached out and lifted Edmund's limp body from Tumnus's arms into his own, before climbing carefully to his hooves. Edmund's head tilted to one side, and he moaned pitifully. Even unconscious, Oreius could see the young Son of Adam's agony was great. Once out of the ditch, the centaur forthwith reared onto his back legs, and took off at a breakneck gallop. As he stampeded away, Tumnus could hear him bellowing loudly to their men, "King Edmund is wounded! Get help!"

One by one, the Narnians relayed the general's urgent message: "King Edmund is wounded! _The king has been wounded!_"

Tumnus, knowing full well he could never keep up with Oreius, set off in the same direction as the centaur anyhow.

He hurtled along at his utmost speed, knocking aside any who stood in his path, both enemies and allies alike, praying continually all the while that it may not be too late.

* * *

Oreius paced back and forth outside the tent where Edmund was being tended to, while Tumnus sat on a nearby rock with his face in his hands.

Both the centaur and the faun were still in full armor, though Tumnus had removed his helmet, and set it aside along with his sword. The faun had escaped the battle with several moderately bruised ribs, along with a few deep but minor scratches on his face and neck, and a cut on one section of his left arm not covered by his vambrace.

But Tumnus adamantly refused to have his wounds cleansed, and he wouldn't take a drop of Lucy's fireflower juice, insisting Edmund's needs were far greater than his own.

"At least eat something, mate," Beaver had told him earlier. "Can I get you anything special? Bread? Cheese? A nice piece of fish ought to perk you up."

"No," Tumnus replied staunchly. "I don't want anything."

Beaver's wife, Mrs. Beaver, protested, "But, you need food, dear. You need nourishment; you haven't eaten so much as a speck all day."

Though Tumnus was indeed famished, and rapaciously thirsty, he still would not accept any food or drink.

"Not even a cup of tea?" Beaver suggested.

"_No!_" said Tumnus, his tone harsher than intended. He truly did not mean to snap at Beaver, but how could Beaver possibly be thinking about tea at a time like this? How could they think about food when Edmund was hurt, even at the point of death? Seeing that arguing with Tumnus would get them nowhere, the Beavers gave up and left the faun in peace.

Oreius also abstained from eating or drinking, despite his obvious hunger and thirst. Even Peter took part in Tumnus's fast. As for Peter, he sat wearily next to Tumnus on the cool grass, one knee drawn to his chest, both arms crossed over the top of that knee, his forehead nestled against his arms. Like Tumnus, Peter continued to wear his armor, save for his helmet, and the hood of his coif rested upon his shoulders. Susan sat with the young men, and their troops were scattered all around them, all of them waiting anxiously to receive word of Edmund's welfare.

"What's taking so long?" Susan kept asking, every three seconds. "We should have heard about Edmund by now! Lucy's potion should work!"

"Unless…" Peter faltered, unable to bring himself to say it.

Tumnus knew exactly what Peter meant to say, and the thought was too horrible to stomach.

Edmund had to be all right; he just _had _to be. If Lucy's potion didn't do the trick, nothing would.

If the boy perished, Tumnus was at a loss of what he would do.

Oh, how Tumnus wished this were somehow reversed, that_ he_ was the one wounded, rather than Edmund. How gladly he would die in Edmund's place. The faun still couldn't get over the fact that Edmund would sacrifice himself for him. Aside from the shock, bewilderment, and grave sorrow, the faun was also filled to the brim with feelings of awe and humility.

With his hands over his damp, feverish face, Tumnus never left off praying for Edmund, that it was not too late, that Edmund would survive. Aside from his prayers, a thousand troubling thoughts whirled through the faun's mind. Maybe the arrow had already gone straight through Edmund's heart. Maybe he had somehow made it worse for Edmund, by pulling that arrow out too soon. Maybe Oreius hadn't showed up soon enough, or run quickly enough. Maybe the wound was beyond healing anyway, even for Lucy's powerful cordial.

_Please, Aslan…please,_ became Tumnus's inner mantra.

Finally, just when they were all beginning to think they could not endure the waiting any longer, Lucy at last emerged from the tent. Oreius jerked to a prompt halt when he noticed her. When Tumnus and Peter lifted their heads and saw her as well, they jumped to their feet at the exact same time. Susan arose as well, her whole face white with anxiety; had her eyes been any larger, they would have popped right out of her head. Tears shone in Lucy's eyes and upon her cheeks, and for one very terrible moment, everyone feared the worst.

But then, to their blessed relief, Lucy actually smiled at them all.

"He's going to be all right," she said in a quivering voice, and Susan and Peter were so happy that they both burst into tears on the spot, and Tumnus became so dizzy with relief that he nearly fell to the ground. Oreius bent his head and covered his face with his hands, as if to give thanks to Aslan, or else to conceal the fact that he was weeping like a newborn.

Everyone began exchanging hugs and thumps on the back, laughing and cheering and crying by turns. Tumnus actually scooped Lucy right off her feet, and spun the girl around in circles. When he finally set her down again, Lucy admitted to him that she'd had a bit of a nasty scare when Edmund would not respond right away after she administered her cordial, but he soon started breathing again, and for some reason he kept whispering for Tumnus. Tumnus's heart fluttered upon hearing the last bit. Edmund, asking for _him? _

When things ultimately began to quiet down somewhat, everyone started on their separate ways, to take stock, to tend to those who were also wounded, and to see to their prisoners whom they had captured in battle. Tumnus would have left the premises, so that Edmund could be with his family in peace.

But Lucy stopped the faun before he could take three steps, and insisted that he go see Edmund, as Edmund wished. Peter and Susan agreed that Tumnus ought to pay the first visit.

Even though Peter was very anxious to be with his brother himself, he held himself steady, and said, "Go ahead, Mr. Tumnus."

"No," Tumnus objected. "Really, I…I couldn't…"

"Oh, go on!" Susan urged the faun, giving him a push in the direction of the tent.

"Go on, Mr. Tumnus," Lucy echoed. "Edmund asked specifically for _you. _And you are the one who saved him, after all. Had it not been for you, we would likely not have found Edmund in time."

Tumnus knew that Lucy had it backwards. It was really Edmund who had saved _him_; however, the faun made no further argument, but submissively made way for the tent, though it made him feel a little insolent, going in before Edmund's own family. When Tumnus passed through the flap at the opening, he found Edmund lying on a cot at the far end.

Whether the boy was still in armor, or whether he was even wearing anything at all, it was impossible to tell, for a thick blanket covered him up to his chin.

His head nestled against a soft sea of pillows, and just a little more natural color had returned to his face, though he still looked fairly sickly.

Tumnus stood where he was for a minute, watching the boy, marveling at the great sacrifice that had taken place. It chilled the faun to think about how close Edmund had come to losing his life, and gratitude flooded his breast to know the young king would live. Eventually, Tumnus's legs ended up carrying him over to the cot, and he knelt quietly at Edmund's side.

He dared to reach for Edmund's hand, which hung down from below the blanket, and which felt limp yet reassuringly warm. Edmund did not stir. Tumnus brushed his lips briefly across the back of the boy's fingers, before pressing Edmund's hand to his forehead. He closed his eyes and sighed tremulously, feeling all of his tension and anxiety drain out of him like water. His knees felt suddenly extremely weak, and he was quite sure he would have crumpled to the ground, had he not been kneeling already.

"Thank you, Aslan," he whispered fervently, eyes still closed.

Edging in a little closer, letting his head drop to rest on Edmund's chest, he said repeatedly in his heart, _Thank you, Aslan…thank you…_

He remained in that spot for a long time, thanking Aslan endlessly.

He might have dozed off briefly; for the next thing he knew, Edmund was shifting under his blanket, and Tumnus heard him moan.

"M…Mr. T…Tum…nus…" Tumnus promptly opened his eyes and lifted his face, and saw that Edmund's eyelids were fluttering, as if he were struggling to awaken.

Tumnus said not a word, but reached over and laid his palm reassuringly along Edmund's cheek. That was when Edmund's eyes opened all the way at last.

He gave a short start at first, but as he peered up at Tumnus, who peered down intently at him in return, recognition dawned on the boy's face.

"Mr. Tumnus," he whispered, the faintest traces of a smile gracing his lips.

"Yes," Tumnus whispered back, as he smoothed Edmund's cheek tenderly, "I am here."

Noticing Tumnus's dirty, haggard face, battle-scarred armor, and tousled, sweat-dampened curls, Edmund said wryly, "You look terrible, Mr. Tumnus."

This brought a weak chuckle out of Tumnus. "Well, you're not exactly a sight for sore eyes yourself," he gently teased.

"And you smell like you could do with a good bath," Edmund added, "no offense."

"None taken." Tumnus was too glad and far too grateful that Edmund was alive and speaking to him to be offended, or rattled in any way by the boy's comment.

Then Edmund's face grew genuinely serious. "But, really, Mr. Tumnus, are you all right? Really and truly all right?"

"You're the one I was worried about," Tumnus said, hardly able to speak around the lump that had wedged in his throat. He stroked back Edmund's raven hair. "We were all so afraid we'd lose you. You're extremely lucky; that arrow could have very well pierced your heart…and you could have very well died out there." He nearly choked on the last bit.

"You could have very well died yourself," Edmund countered.

When Tumnus had the strength, he asked, "Why did you do that, Edmund? Why would you risk your life like that, for me? You're one of the kings of Narnia; I am but a low and humble faun. I am not worthy enough to so much as unlace your boots." A single tear slid down his face, cutting through the grime. His voice broke noticeably as he continued, "A-and…I don't know what I would have done, had you perished on my account. All I know is that I could never have borne it. Never."

A queer look came over Edmund's face; the boy looked quite ready to weep himself.

"I couldn't allow that minotaur to kill you, Mr. Tumnus," he half-croaked, his eyes shining and unmistakably wet. "I just couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to stand by, and let harm come to you. Had I allowed that to happen, how could I have ever forgiven myself? How would I have been able to live with myself? Especially after the way I…I…"

He faltered, unable to speak further, but Tumnus understood that he meant to say _"especially after the way I betrayed you to the Witch"_.

This really got the tears flowing for Tumnus. Trying to hold them back was about as easy as trying to stop up a leak in a dam with a meager strand of straw, but Tumnus was not ashamed, and never bothered to wipe them away or make any attempts to stem the flow. Rather, he simply seized Edmund's hand once more, squeezing until the fingers were a notable shade of blue.

"Oh, Edmund," was all he said, his voice nearly inaudible, his lips moving almost indiscernibly.

When Edmund could speak again, he informed Tumnus, with a somewhat lopsided smile, "Besides, you'd already saved my life beforehand, when that hag was trying to sneak up on me and kill me. Thus, I returned the favor. How could I be truly deserving of what you did for me, had I not been willing to do the same for you?"

"What else could I have done?" said Tumnus earnestly, easing his grip on Edmund a little, but still maintaining a steadfast hold. "You were in danger, Edmund. I simply had to protect you."

Edmund said, "Let's just call it even, shall we?"

Tumnus agreed—though in his heart, the faun knew he would forever be in Edmund's debt; Edmund knew that he, too, would be eternally indebted to Tumnus.

The two remained in silence for a time after that.

Tumnus found himself beginning to slowly see Edmund as more than a king, even more than a Son of Adam. At the same time, the hidden veil was starting to lift from Edmund's eyes as well, and he saw Tumnus as more than a beaten-down soldier, more than a common faun. Both began to see each other as a true friend…as a brother. Though they were two separate beings, from two separate worlds, they were knit as one, bound by an unseen cord of love and devotion. Titles and positions no longer mattered so much. And knowing that they genuinely cared about each other, that each would willingly lay down his life for the other, meant more to Tumnus and Edmund than anything their victory had brought them that day.

"Mr. Tumnus?" said Edmund at length, as he felt himself drifting slowly on the edge of sleep.

"Yes, Edmund?" Tumnus gently acknowledged.

"Will you stay with me, until I fall asleep?"

Tumnus smiled down at him—a warm, sincere, brotherly smile. "Of course, I will."

Edmund smiled tiredly in exchange, then he closed his eyes once again, and was soon sleeping peacefully. Even then, Tumnus stayed with him.

Presently, Tumnus bent over Edmund and tenderly kissed the boy's forehead, and whispered into his ear, "Thank you, Edmund…my friend, my dear, sweet brother. _Thank you._"

_

* * *

I had a dream  
Of the wide open prairie  
I had a dream  
Of the pale morning sky_

_I had a dream  
That we flew on golden wings  
And we were the same  
Just the same, you and I_

_Follow your heart  
Little child of the west wind  
Follow the voice  
That's calling you home_

_Follow your dreams  
But always remember me  
I am your brother  
Yeah, under the sun_

_We are like birds of a feather  
We are two hearts joined together  
We will be forever as one  
My brother under the sun_

_Wherever you hear  
The wind in the canyon  
Wherever you see  
The buffalo run_

_Wherever you go  
I'll be there beside you  
_'_Cause you are my brother  
My brother under the sun_

_We are like birds of a feather  
We are two hearts joined together  
We will be forever as one  
My brother under the sun_

_Under the sun…  
Under the sun…  
My brother under the sun_

"**Brothers Under the Sun" ~ as sung by Bryan Adams  
**

**(From the **_**Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron**_** soundtrack)**


End file.
